Playing With Fire
by siriusisasassyfuck
Summary: James and Lily in their 7th and final year at Hogwarts. James thinks he can make Lily love him by the end of the year. Lily thinks she can get James to hate her by the end of the year. But they're playing with fire, and when you play with fire, someone's bound to get burned.
1. Chapter 1: Head Boy

I looked at the clock in the front of the car. It was 10:45. 10:45! I was going to be late. Me, Lily Evans, newly appointed Head Girl of Hogwarts and resident slob of the Evans household, was going to miss the train to school. I would have to suffer the painful humiliation of arriving by… I don't even know how I would get to Hogwarts if I missed the train. Or worse, what would happen once I did arrive. Detention for a month, probably. Beheading. Expulsion. They'd take away my Head Girl badge, at the very least. Merlin, how was I going to survive a whole year of being Head Girl if I couldn't even catch one train?

"Hurry up! Hurry, hurry, hurry or I'm going to be late!" I squealed at my parents as we cruised down the street.

"We're almost there, Lily, don't worry." my dad said soothingly, obviously trying to prevent an outbreak and possibly murder. Not that I got angry at little things. At all.

"Go faster!"

My mum sighed from behind the wheel. "It's a red light, Lily. We can't."

I huffed and pouted. I hated it when she used logic.

Several excruciating minutes later we arrived at Kings Cross. Dad helped me load my trunk and owl onto a trolley and we speeded toward the platform. I didn't even bother to check if any Muggles were watching as I plummeted into the brick wall that was Platform 9 ¾. The big clock on the platform read 10:58 and the Hogwarts Express was still in the station. I breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the wall.

"No time for that now, you have to put your trunk in the compartment!" Mum fretted, from whom I had apparently inherited my stress gene from. I said hasty but heartfelt goodbyes as I lugged my trunk toward the train and started the painful process of louvring it up. Damn all those 7th Year books we had to buy. Damn how bloody heavy our uniform is. Damn everything.

"LILYYYYY!" I heard a familiar voice yell from across the platform, slowly getting closer. "LILY! ITS ME!" I felt something slam into me with the force of a 10 tonne lorry.

"Yes, I know, I know, Emmeline." I wheezed from the midst of the bone-crushing hug my best friend had enveloped me in. "Good to see you too. But I still have a trunk, and owl and myself to get on this bloody train before it leaves in a minute."

With Emmeline's help, I managed to get my trunk on the train. Hightailing it down the corridor, I slammed the door open to the Heads compartment, right down the front of the train and threw myself in just as the train pulled out of the station. Luckily I managed to get myself inside before the force of movement threw me right back to the end of the train. My owl, Strix, complained loudly at the indignity of it all, but I was too busy focusing on breathing techniques and attempting to revive the carroty mess that was my hair to take much notice.

"Alright there, Evans?" I heard a voice say, every syllable lathered with smirky arrogance. Slowly and full of dread, I raised my gaze to observe the face of my impending doom. The human incarnation of Satan himself. The living form of torture that had been sent from the heavens to taunt me. Evil in its true nature, wearing loose jeans and a blue shirt and grinning at me with such casual confidence it made me want to hurl myself out the window. Here he was, in the Head compartment, with his trunk placed neatly in the overhead compartment and his owl sleeping quietly on the seat. This could not be happening. It was impossible. Dumbledore would never subject me to something like this. Yet here he was, badge leering at me as he brandished it in my face as proof.

James Potter was Head Boy.

I hadn't even considered, not even for a moment, the possibility of James Potter being Head Boy. I had always thought it would go to Remus, or Jonah Peggs, a Ravenclaw I had had a crush on for all of 5th Year. Never, in the most remote corners of my mind, had I considered that Dumbledore would have the absence of mind to place Hogwart's fate on the shoulders of the most immature, inappropriate, annoying, underdeveloped, deviant, degenerate moose to ever grace the universe. What in the name of Merlin's left butt cheek was he thinking?

I must have been standing there like a gaping fish for quite a while, because Potter's egotistical smile had begun to slip awkwardly.

"I-you-Dumbl-wouldn't- You're HEAD BOY?" I stuttered, my brain still in a state of shock and clearly not fit for the task of developing sentences.

"Don't look so shocked about it," he said, the smirk creeping slowly back up his face. "Just think of all the quality time we'll get to spend together."

My breathing grew heavier as my shock made way for anger. How on Earth did _James Potter _get Head Boy? With a whole grade of worthy applicants, how did _Potter _win? I would have preferred the most despicable Slytherin every day of the week over him. For crying out loud, I would have preferred a _turnip_ over him. Dumbledore must be going senile in his old age. That's the only explanation. Merlin, the year hadn't even begun and it had already gone wrong!

I stormed outside and made my way to the second last compartment on the left, the same one me and Emmeline had been using since Second Year. She and my other friends, Hestia Macardell and Marlene McKinnon were occupying three of the seats. I slumped into the nearest seat and tried to calm my breathing down.

"Lily? How'd it go?" Emmeline pressed. "More importantly, who is Head Boy?"

I let out a loud and intense dying whale noise as I slid further and further down my seat. Emmeline and the rest of the Gryffindor Seventh Years attempted to look worried, but I could tell they were fighting back the giggles.

"It's him." I mumbled.

I expected shocked gasps. Murmurs of sympathy as they attempted to hug the pain away. Maybe even a few tears. Not a confused "What?" as they looked at each other and shrugged with that _she's crazy_ look.

"It's James Potter. He's Head Boy!" I cried dramatically, ensuring no room for confusion. Now they would understand. Now they would sympathise. Merlin knows I needed it.

What I did not need was this: my best friends, rolling on the floor or doubled up laughing their butts off as I grieved. Those bloody annoying, narcissistic, self-obsessed pricks!

"You-Pott-Head Boy!" Emmeline crowed in between guffaws. I frowned at her. Best friends were supposed to be kind and supportive in times of need, not laugh at you!

"That's it." I grumbled. "I'd rather spend time with Potter than you lame excuses for dorm mates."

Potter was still sitting in the compartment when I returned. He looked up when I approached. Automatically, his hand gravitated to his hair and he plastered on an easy smile.

"Miss me already, Evans?"

"You wish," I grumbled, wishing for a better comeback. "We have a lot to do. Let's get started."

James was actually surprisingly focused as we set out to write a speech for our first Prefects meeting and organise the patrol roster.

"Do you think I could get everyone to call me 'Captain'?" James asked me as we planned our introduction speech.

I pretended to consider it. "No. Although you might have more luck with 'dickhead'." James puckered his lower lip in an attempt to look sad. "In fact, you probably won't even have to ask them." I continued.

James clutched his chest dramatically. "You wound me." I rolled my eyes and threw a wad of scrunched up paper at him, which backfired as I had not taken into account his abnormally fast Quidditch reflexes. He caught the wad and threw it straight back at me, which unfortunately worked perfectly as it hit me square in the face. I ignored his crow of laughter and went back to the list of things that we needed to tell the Prefects at the meeting.

**_WHAT TO TELL PREFECTS AT MEETING_**

_1. __Introduce selves_

_2. __Present patrol roster. Adjust if necessary_

_3. __Go over rules_

_4. __Explain situations in which it is or is not appropriate to assign detentions. _

_5. __Exemplify the many ways in which one James Potter is an insufferable twit_

James peered over my shoulder. "Hey!" he exclaimed, snatching my quill and adding his own ideas to the list, which may or may not have included my being intolerable snot. I snatched the parchment back, and kept trying to write. James, being the git that he is, had pulled out his wand in the meantime and had begun magically changing everything I was trying to write into _Lily Evans is a prat. _I groaned and tried to grab James' wand from his hand, which was not as successful as I had hoped considering that James was a Quidditch player with Quidditch reflexes, toned muscles and was about a foot taller than me to boot. Regardless, I was determined. I jumped on top of him, reaching out to grab it… I was almost there... _Damn_ Potter and his long arms…

The compartment door swung open, and an overly enthusiastic Sirius Black bounded in yelling "Prongsie!" at the top of his lungs. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed the… unusual position James and I were currently tangled in. James was lying almost flat on the seats, and I was sprawled on top of him, sitting on his stomach with a leg either side of his waist, reaching over his head for the wand which he held out above his head.

James peered around at Sirius, which required quite a bit of neck twisting considering my boob was hanging right in front of his face, and he had to manoeuvre around it without planting his face into my boobs.

"Padfoot!" he exclaimed. (I'd never understood the nicknames the four Marauders gave each other. Prongs… what exactly was his prong? And where? I could think of nowhere that Sirius or his friends had any right to know about. And Padfoot. Why were they thinking about the bottom of Sirius' feet? Why was it so nickname worthy? And Moony and Wormtail. I don't understand)

Sirius' smile had widened mischievously. "I can come back another time. Wouldn't want to interrupt anything." He said, backing out of the compartment.

I flushed scarlet and pushed myself as far away from James as I could. "It's not like that!" I said hotly. "I was just trying to grab his wand!" I winced. That sounded bad. From the smirk on Sirius' face, he noticed it too. "I mean he was trying to…" I gave up. "It's not what you think." I finished lamely.

The other two Marauders arrived just then.

"Everything all right here?" Remus inquired, poking his head through the compartment door.

"Just spiffing" Sirius beamed, looking decidedly chirpier than he had a minute ago. "Evans here was just trying to grab James' wand."

Remus looked amused. "Already? You two are getting along better than I thought."

**A/N: Okay, this is my first story and all, so PLEASE REVIEW. **

**Shoutout to nymeria-and-ghost for being a fabulous person and giving me much needed criticism on my choices of names. **

**Thank you and enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Bet

"It was _awful!" _ I groaned pummelling my pillow repeatedly with my face. "I'm going to be stuck with that annoying twat for the _whole year! _I should have _known _this would happen. I should have known fate would be so cruel. I mean, it would just be _too hard _to give poor old Lily a break now and then, wouldn't it?_" _

Hestia shrugged. "I don't know, I think he's kind of hot."

I threw my pillow at her.

"Looks don't matter, Hestia. What matters is the pitch black depths of evil maliciousness that is his soul."

"Come on, Lily. He's not _that _bad."

"Yes he is!"

"What has he done?"

"He turned my hair green on St Patricks Day."

"That was funny! And completely reversible."

"That time he filled our entire dorm with heart shaped rose petals on Valentine's Day."

"I was sneezing for _days." _Marlene complained.

"When he put up all those banners with my winking face on them on my birthday."

"You went _so _red." Emmeline chuckled. "And then you hexed him in the corridors and got Friday detentions for a _month!"_

"When he –"

"Okay, okay, we get the picture. James likes to tease you. That doesn't mean he's a bad person."

"What about that thing in Fifth Year?" Lily reminded them softly. "_That _was a joke?"

Hestia sighed. "He's made some bad choices. But that doesn't mean he's evil. Just give him a chance, Lils."

"No." I remained stubborn. Why couldn't they _see? _James was not the miracle of the gods that everyone seemed to think he was. I mean _really. _Just because you get captain of the Quidditch team and are mildly (okay, very) attractive does not mean your better than everyone else. I just means that you have _really _good abs (this is not how it sounds, I promise. I just know because James had a habit of ripping off his Quidditch jersey when Gryffindor won a game). But still. Having and exemplary six pack did not mean you could be forgiven.

"He's just doing it because he fancies you."

And here we have the butt of the problem. James Potter had fancied me for years now, which unlike any other normal, dateable, romantic male, did not include him being sweet and inviting me to Hogsmeade or buying me a butterbeer at Madam Rosmerta's. Being fancied by James Potter meant being endlessly taunted, humiliated and annoyed by the incessancy of James' attempts to show off, which ultimately end in me being embarrassed and hating him even more.

"He won't though. I'll make sure of that. By the end of this year James Potter will _not _fancy me."

Marlene scoffed. "Yeah sure. That's likely. There's nothing you could do to make James Potter hate you!"

"You wanna bet?" I asked.

"Okay" She said. "I bet you ten galleons"

We shook on it.

* * *

"You two seemed to be getting along well." Remus observed. He didn't explain, but they all knew who he was referring to. The four Marauders were sitting on the beds in their dorm room, eating their way through the leftover food from the Welcome Feast.

James looked pleased with himself. "I think so. She only called me a few names and attacked me once or twice, but I think we've made progress."

"A healthy relationship indeed." Sirius said, as he delved into his trunk trying to locate his pyjamas.

The room was already buried under an avalanche of Sirius' clothes. The other Marauders weren't particularly concerned. The floor wasn't something they saw on a regular basis, what with having Sirius, James and Peter in the same room. Sirius and James had long ago decided that trunks were a far too confined a space for all their clothes, so they had decided to expand their wardrobe to cover the whole room. This often led to confusion between whose clothes were whose, but the boys didn't mind and were quite content to wear each other's robes every now and then. Peter, at least, made an attempt to keep his things in order, but as he was a generally absent-minded and disorganised sort of bloke, this didn't normally work out too successfully.

Remus was the only one of the Marauders who kept his space relatively tidy. His clothes were always put into his trunk (albeit messily) and his books were stacked near his bedside or in his cauldron. Despite this, he was still a teenage boy, and it is the rare teenage boy who will keep his room perfectly clean without outside influence (of which the boys had none). So it was not unusual for the Gryffindor Seventh Year Boys dormitory to look as if it had been hit by a hurricane on a regular basis.

"That's the sort of negativity I _don't _need in my life, Padfoot, mate. I think Lily is desperately in love with me. She just hasn't realised it yet."

"That's the sort of optimism that will hinder you from exploring other options and keep you chained in a futile relationship of unrequited love and chastity." Sirius said. "Face it. She hates you. Move on. You're _Quidditch Captain, _Prongsie. If that doesn't get you a free pass into the pants of any girl in this school, nothing will. That's the sort of advantage you need to take advantage of while you can."

James ignored the last comment, focusing instead on what he perceived as a huge insult. "I do _so _have a chance with Lily. Just you see."

"Okay. Sirius said. "Get her to go to Hogsmeade with you. On a date. By Christmas. Then I'll believe you."

"Fine." James said. "But if she does, then you have to take McGonagall."

Remus choked on his pumpkin juice. "She'll take that well."

"Okay. But you at least have to ask her. And there has to be a witness!"

Sirius grinned. "Done. But if I win, then you have to streak through the Great Hall at breakfast."

James considered this. "Not naked. With underwear on. I'd get expelled if I was naked."

"Fine. But only if it's pink underwear."

"And you just happen to have pink underwear, do you?"

Sirius smirked. "I have my sources."

James rolled his eyes. "Fine."

* * *

Light pierced my eyes and a shrill voice pierced the air. "Wakey, wakey, rise and shine!"

"Shut up, Marlene." I groaned, shying away from the light. "It's like 8 o'clock. That's pretty much the middle of the night."

"We'll miss breakfast, sleepy head. And be late for class. And you don't want detention on your first day, so you?" Marlene taunted. "_So _not Head Girl material."

I groaned again, more annoyed by the fact that she was right, I rolled out of bed in a surprisingly accurate representation of a seal. Wrapping myself in my blankets in true burrito style, I blundered into the bathroom and turned on the shower tap. In my sleep-induced stupidity, I stepped into the stream of water still wearing my blankets and pyjamas. Jumping back, I dumped my blankets on the floor and stripped. I'd dry them later. For now, I needed to shower.

There is something magical about a shower, I reflected. Spells aside, something about standing under the steady stream of hot water just made you feel good. I felt almost awake as I dressed in my robes and tied the red and gold tie around my neck. It only took two tries to get it right, which I thought was impressive considering my current state of sleep-deprived drowsiness.

After I was dressed, I located my wand and performed a quick drying spell on my sheets. It worked a little too well, and my blankets started smoking slightly, but nothing caught fire. I returned the blankets to my bed and waved my wand for the bed to make itself. Normally this would present to real challenge to me, but it was the first morning of the year and after two months of sleeping in until 11 o'clock, my brain refused to start working at this ungodly hour.

I plodded down to the Great Hall, and took a seat next to Emmeline at the Gryffindor table. Plates of different assortments of breakfastly food lined the table, flanked by two neat rows of plates that stretched the length of the bench, and I found myself seated in front of a large plate of sausages.

Breakfast was its usual, and it felt surprisingly good to settle back into the routine I had assumed for the majority of the last six years. I helped myself to eggs and toast and poured myself some coffee, taking a grateful sip. There is nothing like Hogwarts coffee, and I had missed it desperately (at home I had spent many a morning remorsefully sipping the substandard watery mess that was the coffee Mum bought at home, fantasising about this beautifully concocted perfection).

I was well into my second cup by the time I opened my eyes enough to notice that someone had placed a timetable in front of my plate, and I picked it up unenthusiastically. First up, Charms. That improved my mood somewhat. I liked Charms. I was good at Charms. And Professor Flitwick liked me. Probably because I was good at Charms.

I had just finished my egg and toast and was helping myself to the sausages that had tantalised me all breakfast when someone had the absence of mind to sit next to me on the bench. Nobody was supposed to sit next to me on the bench. Not at breakfast. Did my seniority and Head Girl status mean nothing around here? I needed elbow room. I was far too grumpy in the mornings to bother with the extreme effort of regulating my elbow movement enough to not hit the person next to me. And there was also the drink issue – I had a reputation for knocking over people's goblets at the table, and I was not in the mood or the mental state of mind to have to apologise and clean up the mess.

I turned around, ready to order the poor unsuspecting underclassman to leave and find another space along the bench. Unfortunately for me, the idiot who had decided to risk their life and their pumpkin juice to sit next to me at breakfast was not a poor unsuspecting underclassman. It was Potter.

"Go away." I grumbled, turning what I hoped was a withering glare on him.

"You're in a charming mood today, Evans," he commented chirpily. "I'm simply _delighted _to see you too. Pass the pumpkin juice, would you?"

I ignored him, turning my attention back to my sausages and stabbing them repetitively with my fork.

"Now that's just _rude_."He reached past me to grab the jug, and I got a faceful of arm and a strong whiff of his cologne. I frowned at his bicep, hoping it would get the picture and remove itself from my facial vicinity.

It soon did, and I went back to stabbing my sausage and dearly wishing it was James. I wondered if you could kill someone with a fork. It seemed possible, and I was tempted to try out the theory while I listened to James chat on with uncharacteristic exuberance. That was soon abandoned with the arrival of Sirius, Remus and Peter, who sufficiently occupied James and drew his attention away from me. Thankfully.

I turned to my friends, in the hope of finding some decent conversation. I was sorely disappointed. They were discussing the inner details of Jonathan Belby's party, and to be honest, I wasn't really interested in hearing about who snogged who, and who were seen sneaking off into a closet with such-and-such's boyfriend, but I pretended to be listening so that nobody else would try to talk to me.

"_I _heard that Talia Gilbert hooked up with Penelope Dent's boyfriend, and that there was a full on _war_ in the Hufflepuff dormitory last night when Penny found out."

"That's bullshit. I saw Penny and Calvin at the party. He was groping her like mad. There is no _way _he was going anywhere with anyone's dorm mate."

Far too late, breakfast was over and I was doomed to the long and painful journey up to the Gryffindor Common Room (which I might mention was on the SEVENTH FLOOR) to grab my Charms books before going all the way back down to my Charms classroom on the third.

Emmeline caught up to me. "Potter was very pal-sy this morning." She remarked.

"I _knooooow." _I groaned. "I don't know how I'm gonna make him hate me. I've never exactly been nice to him in the past, and that's never stopped him before."

"Break his heart." Emma suggested.

I looked at her sarcastically (can you look at someone sarcastically? Or is sarcasm restricted to talking?) "Yes, because that has worked perfectly before. I've never refused his romantic advances rudely before."

"True." Marlene thought for a moment. "But what if you _really _broke his heart though? Like made him think that you liked him back, and then break it off suddenly?"

I grinned. "That's evil. I like it."


	3. Chapter 3: Quidditch

"You're late." I frowned.

James shrugged apologetically. "I got caught up."

I thought that was a pretty lame excuse for being late, but I let it drop and began walking down the corridors. We were on patrol until 10pm, and I was not looking forward to it.

"Well," James observed. "One good thing about being Head Boy is that I actually have an excuse to be out past curfew."

"Yes" I commented dryly. "Filch will definitely forgive you when he catches you sneaking back from the kitchens laden with food at 1 o'clock in the morning. Clearly just on Head Duties."

"Shut up" James muttered.

We walked in silence for a few minutes. I thought this was a bit awkward, so I attempted to bring up conversation. "Have you finished the Transfiguration essay McGonagall gave us yet?"

James looked horrified. "We only got it yesterday. You can't have already started?"

I frowned at him. I seemed to be doing that a lot recently. "Of course I have. We have our N.E. this year, remember. I need to do well."

"So does everyone else in the grade, and _they _haven't started yet." I ignored that comment. "Besides, I had Quidditch." He continued reproachfully.

"Already? It's like the second day. Do you _never _stop?" How. Why. What is with these Quidditch types? They practiced all year round, even when it wasn't even Quidditch season, and when they weren't physically playing Quidditch, they were thinking and talking about it. I would know. Hestia played Beater, and I had been living in the same room as her since First Year.

"Quidditch is an art. It requires practice. If I let the team rest for a minute, they'll all get out of shape and I _will _not lose to Slytherin again. Its my last year – I have to win the Cup! And Williams graduated last year so we're going to have to train a new Seeker up which will heavily impact on our training schedule and I won't be able to try out the new formation I was thinking of– Sorry, I know you don't care about Quidditch."

I was a little surprised by his sudden show of empathy. I wouldn't have expected James Potter to care one way or another whether or not I was interested in Quidditch. "Nope," I admitted "I don't care in the slightest."

James grinned, remarkably unoffended by my comment. "By the way, tell Hestia that she has to be there at the trials on Saturday. The only open position is Seeker, but I like to have the other team members' opinion on new members and besides, I'll be trialling for every position in case anyone needs to be replaced. And we need subs."

"I will." I promised.

"And Evans – another thing. Can we change the patrol roster for Saturday? I'm er- busy. But I can make it up another day."

"I guess so. What do you have on?"

"I have to go to – er - detention."

I rolled my eyes. "Its been two days, Potter. Can't you keep out of trouble for _two days?"_

* * *

The first week came and went surprisingly quickly. Nothing much happened. Florence Dayes broke up with her boyfriend loudly and with much crying on Wednesday morning. There was an outbreak of measles among the Second Years, and the potion Madam Welbert gave them left them looking an odd shade of yellow. A First Year smashed a window on their first flying lesson, and a Third Year accidently set Professor Slughorn's robes on fire during Potions.

Saturday was the sort of day when everything was generally mediocre. The sky was that annoying overcast-without-actually-raining, my hair decided to be lions mane fuzzy on account of the humidity, and the Quidditch types were generally insufferable because it was the trials today.

Hestia, James and Sirius all came to breakfast wearing Quidditch robes, and sat together the whole time talking about game tactics and who they thought would be the new Seeker. A few minutes later, Marlene turned up, also in Quidditch robes, and say down next to me looking positively green. I gave her an encouraging smile. "Trying out this year, Mar?"

She nodded nervously. "I was practicing a bit over the holidays, and I thought because it's my last year and everything – that maybe I should try out for Quidditch."

"You'll do great." I assured her. "You were always better than me at flying."

She shrugged in a _that's not saying much _kind of way. I tried not to be too hurt. "I doubt I'll get in anyway. I just wanted to try out."

"I guess we'll find that out, won't we? And I'll come along to watch. Moral support and everything."

I followed Marlene and the rest of the Quidditch team onto the pitch, but bid my farewells at the locker room and made my way up to the stands. It was going to be a long day, so I had brought a book and some homework to do in case I got bored. I chose optimal seats that had a good view of the pitch and tried to get comfortable.

The team walked out several minutes later carrying brooms, and I made a game to try and guess who would play what position.

I already knew that Hestia and Sirius were the beaters, and that James and two Sixth Years called Oliver Krouse and Morgan Banks played Chaser. That meant that the tall one, Brendan Cortez must play Keeper.

The newbies were a mixed group of people. There was this one really tiny girl who I think is in Fourth Year carrying a broom almost bigger than she is, and there was this one guy who was so fat I had a hard time believing his broom would even hold his weight, and all sorts of people in between. I noticed Marlene among their number, her blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail that was being battered around by the wind.

The team stood facing the line of newcomers. James stood at the front, surveying the group critically, probably assessing the pros and cons of each player and, like me, trying to guess what position they'd be good at.

"Okay." He said finally. "Everyone mount your brooms and go for a couple laps warm up. Then meet me back here in two. Got it?"

Everyone nodded, mounting their brooms and taking flight. James stayed on the ground, watching. His keen eyes didn't miss much, I noticed, as they flitted around to each individual player. A couple people were clearly trying too hard to show off, and kept making stupid mistakes. James winced as one of the boys tried to do a loop and a corkscrew twist at the same time, miscalculated, and ended up diving straight for the ground. He managed to pull up in time, but emerged hanging from the broom upside down and very red in the face.

Once everyone had landed, James set to giving them all exercises to test their speed, mobility and agility. Typical Quidditchy stuff. These included weaving around the goal posts at varying speeds, dodging the Quaffles James threw at them, practicing changing speed and direction at command. Then he had them practicing throwing, catching, batting and guarding in turn, regardless of their preferred position. He also put particular emphasis on the catching small moving objects part of the game (aka Seeking). I was no Quidditch player (I think the Fourth Year Incident clarified that well. I doubt Carla Carter will ever trust me again), but I managed to notice a few things. The tiny Fourth Year was extremely fast and agile, but she had shoddy aim. In fact, she almost broke Larry Turner's nose when she accidentally pegged the Quaffle into his face. The fat kid was a good shot and could hit well with a bat, but his weight meant he was slow. Marlene, I noticed, wasn't very fast on the broom but she had quick reflexes and was good at catching.

After he had finished all the exercises, James split the players into teams and they played a mock match. And then another mock match, with the teams mixed up again. And then another mock match, with the positions mixed up. How bloody long does it take to pick a team?

Finally, after several hours, a Potions essay, half my Charms homework and the conjuring of several potatoes that I charmed to follow James around, they were finished. We'd missed lunch, so I was starving, despite the fact I probably could have slipped away to eat. It was too amusing watching the potatoes zoom after James' tousled head, without him even noticing.

James pulled to an abrupt stop, and one of the potatoes didn't manage to stop in time. It catapulted into the back of James' head, and he spun around quickly to see what it was that had to rudely bumped into him. The potatoes were hovering guiltily, and he reached out to pick one. Drawing his wand, he cast what I can only guess was some sort of spell to cook the potato, he took a bite. I thought he took it rather well, with only a suspicious glance in Sirius' direction, who held up his hands in surrender. I sniggered.

Munching happily on his potato, James turned to address the team with his best Quidditch Captain voice. "Good work today, everyone. You all showed potential, but there is only seven places on the team, and more than twenty of you who trialled. I've decided to keep all the players currently on the team." A few people looked relieved – maybe some thought they were going to get dropped. "So the only addition to the team is Seeker. There were a few of you who wanted that position, but I've decided to go with Kayes. Any objections?" He asked his team members.

Nobody had a problem with his choice, although a few of the newbies who hadn't made it into the team looked put out. Ella Kayes – the tiny Fourth Year, grinned ecstatically and her friend clapped her on the back. I could see where James was coming from. Ella lacked beef, that much was certain, but a Seeker was more suited to a light build anyway, and she was definitely speedy.

"And as for subs – McKinnon, first reserve Keeper. Graham, Chaser, Peterson, Chaser. Quinton, Beater. Everyone else, I'm sorry, but better luck next time."

The group broke apart and straggled back to the castle. I cheered enthusiastically (but quietly) for Marlene, and gathered my books up, making my way down the stands to the locker rooms where Marlene would get her stuff.

There was no way I would be going in that room, what with a score of sweaty smelly Quidditch players inside. I waited at the door for Marlene. I heard her voice before I saw her, and when she finally emerged from the room I leapt, tackling her to the ground in a bear hug. "You did it, you did it, you did it." I sung as Marlene struggled to extract herself from my embrace. I heard a snigger, and looked up to see Potter laughing down at me.

* * *

I had to do my prefect rounds with Suzie Harlow on Sunday night, while James was at his detention. It was strange, though, because detentions never went through dinner and James wasn't there either. In fact, I don't think any of the Marauders were at dinner. They were probably planning something. I sighed. James probably wasn't at detention at all. He soon would be though, I predicted. I made a mental note to look out for anything unusual they could have pulled.

Suzie Harlow is nice enough, but she was one of those incredibly boring people that you can't hate because they don't do anything wrong, but are hard to like because they don't do anything right either. She has unremarkable brown hair and a very long fringe that almost covers her eyes, and she always blinks as if she is perpetually surprised at something. We walked in silence most of the way, because it's very hard to keep a conversation going with her. You ask her something, and she'll answer politely, but she won't make any attempt to keep conversation going. I had to resort to pointing out stupid details to keep myself from going crazy.

"It's the full moon tonight." I remarked. Suzie nodded. "Its pretty."

I leaned out the window to feel the fresh air on my face and look at the moon. I liked the moon. There was something... mysterious about it.

Suzie stood behind me silently. That made me feel a bit awkward. I pulled away from the window and continued on my rounds.

I was glad when 10 o'clock came and I was able to go back up to the Gryffindor Common Room. The fire was roaring, and I found my mates playing a game of Exploding Snap. The ends of Hestia's hair looked a little singed, and her frown suggested that she was not winning this particular round.

"You haven't seen Potter around here anywhere, have you?"

They looked up. "No. Not since lunch, actually. Why?"

Why? Why did I care? Why did it matter to me whether or not Potter and his friends were gallivanting around the castle after curfew trying to turn Filch's cat blue?

I shrugged and pulled up a chair next to Emmeline. I was awful at Exploding Snap, but I joined in the next round and managed not to lose too dramatically.

* * *

None of the Marauders were at breakfast, either. That was unusual. Normally after a prank they liked to be there to witness their handiwork and gloat. And there was no reason James had to miss supper, breakfast and patrol for one detention. Fishy.

They weren't in Charms, either. Well, at first. Sirius, James and Peter arrived fifteen minutes late.

"Sorry Professor. We got a little caught up."

Flitwick peered at them over the table. "Take a seat, boys. We'll be revising non-verbal spells this week. I advise you to practice those carefully, because a lot of you N.E. will use them. And er- is Mr Lupin with you today?"

James glanced up. "No, Professor. His mum is ill, and he had to go home to be with her."

Remus' mum seemed to be ill a lot. He had missed class (and prefect rounds) regularly last year as well to go and see her. Poor witch.

We spent the rest of the lesson with a bucket, trying to fill it up with a non-verbal water spell. A couple people got frustrated and I heard a few "_Aguamenti!"_s around. Flitwick chided all those who were lazy enough to try and use the verbal version of the spell, and by the end of the lesson everyone's buckets had some water in it. My bucket was full with clear, clean water by the end, and Flitwick noticed.

"Well done, Miss Evans. Well done indeed."

Unfortunately, not everyone had the same as me. Both Sirius and James, of course, had completed the spell successfully and were now trying to splash each other with the water when Flitwick wasn't looking. Peter was looking dismally at his bucket, which contained a small amount of milky white liquid. James noticed and chortled. "Shut up, Prongs." Peter whined. "You know I'm not good at Charms. Particularly not when I'm tired."

Aha. They had been out somewhere.

* * *

September passed as it always does. Schoolwork, weekends, homework, study, letters from home, late night patrols, Exploding Snap, talking all night, daring Hestia to charm Peter Pettigrew so that it made a loud farting noise whenever he tried to talk. The other Marauders thought this was hilarious, and refused to take the spell off all day. Eventually Peter had the idea to go to Madam Welbert, who fixed him up quickly enough, but nobody let him live it down for weeks.

I found that patrols with James weren't as bad as I thought they'd be. He was a surprisingly interesting person to talk to, despite his annoying habit of mussing his hair up while he told stories. I found myself crying of laughter on more than one occasion, and the long hours passed quickly.

We were supposed to have rounds again just before Astronomy on Monday night, but he bailed again, claiming detention.

"So you won't be at rounds. Are you going to Astronomy?"

He shook his head. "No"

"But they never schedule detentions that clash with class. And they wouldn't make it so late. Astronomy is at midnight."

He shrugged again, obviously not wanting to talk about it. I let it drop.

* * *

As it turned out, none of the Marauders came to Astronomy. It shouldn't bug me as much as it did, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Hestia said that Remus' mum was sick again, which explains why Remus wasn't there, but what about the other Marauders? Why weren't they there? And why did James keep claiming he had detention?

"As you can see, Mercury is particularly bright tonight, despite the full moon. If you could all turn you telescopes to Mercury, please…" Professor Bates droned.

The full moon. It was the full moon tonight.

It had been the full moon the last time James had bailed on rounds as well.

The Marauders missed class on a regular basis. Almost a monthly basis. Remus always said his mum was ill, and came back looking tired and beaten up.

But I had a thought. What if it wasn't Remus' mum that was sick? What if it was Remus?

I think Remus Lupin might be a werewolf.

No. He couldn't be.

But… it did explain a lot. Like why he always missed classes. And why he had those weird scars all over his body. And why the other Marauders called him 'Moony'. (Real sneaky, guys)

The more I thought about it, the less I could convince myself that it was false.


	4. Chapter 4: Werewolf

I could be wrong. I could easily be wrong. Merlin knows it's happened before.

But still, all the signs pointed to it. And my arguments against were getting painfully thin. By the end of the week, I was sure I was right.

Remus is a werewolf.

He came to supper tonight, looking tired and battered and sick and bruised. The other Marauders looked tired too, but not like him. There was no way someone would look like _that _after just going home to see their mum, right?

It was Tuesday night, and I was in the library, like the dedicated schoolgirl I was. I only had a few minutes until I had patrol again with James. I was technically supposed to be doing a Defence Against the Dark Arts essay, but instead I was reading up on werewolves, and more specifically, how to identify them. Sure we'd touched on it in Third Year, but let's face it – nobody pays attention in Third Year.

I found a lot on distinguishing a werewolf from a normal wolf when in wolf form, and multiple and gruesomely detailed images on werewolf attacks, but frustratingly little on how to tell if someone, like, I don't know, your friend, for example, might just _happen _to be a werewolf. Not that that's the sort of thing you'd like to know, or anything.

I paused above a likely section.

_A werewolf is a human being who, upon the complete rising of the full moon, undergoes a transformation into a creature that greatly resembles a wolf. Werewolves can be distinguished from regular wolves by features including the tufted tail, pupils of the eyes, and shorter snout shape. At all other times, werewolves appear as normal humans, although they have a tendency to age prematurely and with gain pallor as the full moon approaches. _

Hmm.

* * *

I met James at the door of the Gryffindor Common Room. He had arrived before me, a rare occurrence, and was leaning against the wall next to the Fat Lady when I approached.

Do I tell him? Do I not? Would he even know?

He'd have to. He's been living with the bloke for the past six years. James would have to be dimmer than he looks to not figure that out, and James looks pretty damn dim sometimes.

We started on our rounds. My head was spinning with the possibility of Remus' werewolfiness, and I wasn't as focused on the conversation as I could have been.

"So…" James began. "Do you have anything planned for this weekend?"

"I had toast for breakfast."

"Er- I'm sure you did." He said, looking confused.

"I don't know. Ask Marlene."

We rounded a corner. James looked at me sideways. "Look, are you feeling alright, Lily?"

"I think you have to add the porcupine quills before the powdered moonroot, or else the potion will turn yellow."

James looked at me strangely, but said nothing. We walked in silence for a little while. After a few minutes James stopped. "Lily, what is _up _with you today? It's like trying to talk to a brick wall, and we just walked past someone putting dungbombs in Filch's office, and you didn't even notice."

"I need to talk to you." I blurted. Fuck, why did I say that, why did I say that? "It's about Remus."

James glanced at me sharply. "What about him?"

I looked left and right. Nobody was about. "I think he might be a werewolf."

James looked at me for a long time, then turned on his heel and kept walking. "You're wrong. He's not."

I didn't say anything. James clearly didn't want to discuss the subject any more. But still, the way he'd been so touchy about the subject made me suspicious.

* * *

James almost ran back to the Common Room, darting through the armchairs and leaping up the steps. He burst through the door, slamming it shut behind him. He slumped against the wall, breathing hard and running his hands nervously though his hair.

"James?" Remus' voice called out. "What's up, mate?"

James took a deep breath. He couldn't keep this from Remus. "She- she knows."

"_Who_ knows about _what_?"

James looked up nervously at Remus. "Lily." He whispered. "She knows that you're a – a werewolf."

Remus paled. "No... No she can't know, not Lily…" He slumped on his bed, face in hands. "You didn't tell her, did you?"

"Of course not. She figured it out on her own… What do we do? What do I tell her?"

"What did you say? When she told you?"

"I denied it, obviously. But Lily's not stupid. She'll notice on the next full moon, and the next. You won't be able to hide it forever."

Remus peered at James anxiously. "You don't think she's… told anyone, do you?"

"I don't know. Do you want me to go find her?"

Remus nodded mutely.

"Do I tell her?"

Remus looked down at his hands. "You really think she'll figure it out?"

"I think she already has. But I'll try and make her see it from our point of view."

Remus took a deep breath and bit his lip. "Okay."

Lily was waiting in the Common Room, warming her hands by the fire. Nobody else was around, and she was gazing into the flames, deep in thought, although she looked up when she heard James' footsteps.

"Listen James, I'm sorry about before, I didn't mean to startle you, but I –"

"Lily." James said urgently, "About the thing you said to me before, you didn't tell anyone else, did you?"

"What? No, no, of course not." Lily said, looking surprised. "If the wrong people heard, then… Remus would be expelled."

"And you don't want that?" James' hazel eyes implored her.

Lily looked shocked. "Why would I want Remus to be expelled?"

"I don't know, some people have a problem with a bloodthirsty monster living in their near vicinity."

"Remus is my friend, James."

"He's also a werewolf."

Lily looked at him and bit her lip. "So it's true then. He is a – a werewolf."

James nodded slowly.

* * *

It's nothing that I didn't already guess. I think I knew it, deep down, but still. To hear James say it so matter-of-factly, to know that it's true, that it's not just my imagination gone wild, something about that hit me hard.

I sat down on one of the armchairs. James sat down next to me, gingerly.

"Does he know? Does Remus know that I know about him?"

James winced. "Yeah… I just told him."

"I want to see him."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Lily. Remus is – he's scared. People finding out about him, people starting to guess like this, it could mean the end for him. Not everyone is accepting of people of his… condition."

"I want to talk to him."

James was silent for a minute. "Not yet. But Lily – you won't tell anyone, will you? Promise me you won't" His eyes bored into mine with an intensity I'd never seen before.

"Of course not, James." Then something occurred to me. I took a breath, not sure if I wanted to know this or not. "He hasn't – he hasn't killed anyone, has he?"

"No." James said immediately, and I was absurdly relieved. Even though I know it wasn't his fault, I don't think I'd be able to look at him the same way if I knew that he'd killed someone.

"Where does he go, you know, for the transformation and everything?" I asked eventually. I was beginning to get over the initial shock, and curiosity was taking over.

"There's a… place." He said vaguely. I raised an eyebrow at him. He looked down, and sighed. "I can't tell you. You might go looking for him, or – or something. And Moony would never forgive himself if he hurt you."

I nodded. What he said made sense, although I was mildly hurt that he thought I was stupid enough to go looking for a bloodthirsty werewolf who would try to eat me.

I got up, heading towards the staircase that led towards the dormitories. Halfway up, I looked back. James was staring into the fire, looking lost in thought. "Goodnight, James." I called out softly.

He jumped a little, and looked up at me. "Goodnight, Lily." He said, giving me a small smile.

I was snuggled up in bed before I realised that it was the first time I'd ever called him James, and the first time he'd ever called me Lily.

* * *

**A/N: Hi everyone!**

**Not really sure what to put in the authors note, but I feel like I should put one in anyway. **

**James and Lily made it to first name basis *seductive winking* and Lily finds out Remus is a werewolf (poor Remus. Remus is a cutie) **

**For those of you who actually care about my story, I'll try and update at least every couple of days (I'm on school holidays now, so I have time and a depressing lack of social life) **

**PLEEEAAAASSSSEEEEEEEE REVIEW I WILL ACTUALLY LOVE YOU FOREVER**


	5. Chapter 5: The Astronomy Tower

I spent a sleepless night tossing and turning in bed, last night's information replaying itself in my brain.

Remus is a werewolf. Remus is a werewolf. Remus is a werewolf.

Did I really care, though? Well, obviously I cared. But was it going to change my opinion on him?

It wasn't his fault. He didn't choose this. He was doing all he could.

And something James said, about him not being able to hurt anyone… except himself. The scars. They were all over his arms and legs. They couldn't be… they couldn't be from himself, scratching and biting himself to pieces during the full moon?

I felt sick again.

* * *

I had still not slept properly when I heard the sounds of Emmeline and Hestia getting up out of bed, being about as quiet as a stampede of buffalo. I hated morning people.

I stretched, sitting up in bed and blinking several times to adjust to the light.

"Wow, Lily. You look like shit." Hestia remarked, ever the epitome of a loving, kind and supportive friend.

"Love you, too, Hestia." I grumbled sleepily.

She blew a kiss at me, grabbing her uniform and heading to the bathroom. Soon I heard the tell-tale splashing sounds of the shower. Damn. Hestia took _forever _in the shower. Like, she'd be in there for at least an hour. That meant I couldn't have one until after breakfast.

"Are you sure you're okay, Lils?" Emmeline asked. At least _someone _cared. "You normally sleep like a log. Seriously. Once we vanished your eyebrows in your sleep and you _never noticed!" _she said, sniggering at the memory.

"You did _what?" _I demanded. They didn't. They couldn't… But that's just the sort of thing they _would _do.

"We… your eyebrows… you didn't…" Emmeline was lying flat on her back, shaking with laughter and sounding vaguely maniacal.

"How long did you leave them off for?" I demanded angrily.

"Until… lunchtime…"

Until LUNCHTIME? They let me go half the bloody day without _eyebrows? _

"I have no true friends in this world." I declared, storming out of the dormitory and slamming the door dramatically behind me.

Emmeline followed suit, catching up to me in the Common Room, despite the fact I refused to acknowledge her presence in any way, although I was acutely aware of the fact that she was sniggering the whole way down to the Great Hall.

I sat down at the table, feeling grumpy, and got myself a slice of toast, thanking the wizarding god for the fact that Hogwarts toast stays perpetually warm. I finished buttering my slice, and reached out for the marmalade.

It wasn't there. My marmalade, the marmalade that I had been using since _First Year, _was missing. I couldn't have toast without marmalade. It just wasn't possible. Marmalade is a _necessity. _

"Where's the marmalade?" I asked, seething. _Nobody _messes with my marmalade.

"Marmalade? Why in Merlin's name would anybody want _marmalade_?" Sirius exclaimed, as though marmalade was a cardinal sin or something.

"It's here, Lily." Remus said softly, passing me the marmalade from down the table, although I noticed he avoided eye contact. Sirius looked positively horrified. "Moony, you _didn't! _Don't _encourage _her! You just gave her the marmalade, for crying out loud. You should be ashamed of yourself." Remus rolled his eyes and went back to his porridge.

Having located the marmalade, I finished breakfast happily. I still wasn't emotionally prepared to talk to Emmeline after my discovery of the Eyebrow Incident, but I was hoping Marlene would be down soon.

She did come down soon. Loudly. And very dramatically.

"Okay everyone, listen up. I am in an _extraordinarily _shitty mood today so don't you _dare _touch me, don't _talk _to me, don't _breathe _next to me." She pointed at Sirius. "And you. If you so much as open your mouth in my presence, I _swear _I will castrate you."

Sirius smirked, and Peter leaned over to Remus. "She scares the shit out of me." I heard him whisper.

"_I _think it's charming." Sirius announced, earning a look from Marlene so dirty I wouldn't be surprised if someone found his body at the bottom of the lake covered in stab wounds and looking as though the skull had been bashed in with a hammer.

Soon enough, however, the incredibly awkward breakfast was over and Defence Against the Dark Arts began. I always hated Defence because our professor was this weird creepy guy that liked to throw books at people and he always had the window shut which made the classroom really stuffy.

Today we learning about the Unforgivable Curses, and how to either a) treat someone who has been under an Unforgivable Curse or b) resist an Unforgivable Curse.

In former applies to the Cruciatus, the latter to the Imperius.

Professor Quilinan said that by the end of the year, we may have a chance at resisting the Imperius ourselves, as the current state of politics means there's a chance one of us may be under it at some point in our adult lives.

He didn't say what we were all thinking; there's also a chance one of us will come across someone who has been under the Cruciatus, too.

* * *

In Transfiguration, we were all given a chicken and told to change it into a Quaffle. Transfiguration was not my strong point, and while I managed to turn mine into a relatively Quaffle-like shape, it still had feathers and legs, and I spent a few minutes trying to catch my feathery ball as it sprinted around the classroom clucking frantically.

Lunch was loud and rowdy, which was unfortunate because I was starting to get a headache. I noticed, however, that only three of the Marauders were present at the table. Remus was missing.

I left my plate half eaten and excused myself from the table.

Why was I doing this? Remus could be anywhere. I wasn't going to find him.

I wandered aimlessly, just sort of hoping I'd run into him.

Today, however, luck was on my side. I found him wandering around the corridors leading to the library.

"Remus. Are you alright?" I called after him. I mentally hit myself. Stupid question. If he was alright, he wouldn't be wandering around here, all alone, missing out on lunch while all his friends were down there, eating and laughing and talking.

"Fine. Just wanted some peace and quiet, is all." He lied, not making eye contact with me. "I'm fine."

I frowned. "You're not, Remus." No point in beating around the bush. "You're not fine. Anyone can see that."

"Please leave me alone, Lily." He begged me, but he looked so sad I just couldn't bring myself to walk away.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Remus."

He said nothing.

"James said that he told you that I know. I know what you are, Remus."

He still said nothing, although his shoulders hunched further over.

"It's okay, Remus. I'm not afraid of you, or anything. I'm not going to judge you."

"Then you're stupid. I'm a monster, Lily. I'm a _monster_, and it's better for everyone if you just stay away!" He said, looking me straight in the eye for the first time that day. He sighed, and turned away. "Please."

I followed after him. "What about James and Sirius and Peter, huh? They know, and you're still friends with them."

Remus looked at the floor. "Yeah, and that was a mistake."

I looped my arm around his shoulder. "How is having friends a mistake, Remus?"

"I – they. They found out, and they tried to help me. They _have _helped me. But I shouldn't have - I've put them in danger, Lily. They were trying to _help _me, and all I've done is put them in danger and one day someone's going to find out and it's all my fault, and –"

"It's okay, Remus. It's not a crime to know a werewolf, you know. It's not even a crime to _be _a werewolf. Nobody is going to get in trouble because of you."

Remus looked at me, looking so _broken _my heart just melted_. _"You don't know anything, Lily. And if you did, maybe you wouldn't want to help me after all."

He turned away and left, leaving me staring after his retreating figure.

* * *

There was no point in me going back down to lunch, so I went to back to Gryffindor Tower in the hopes of finishing some homework. That was quickly abandoned, however, because I just could not concentrate.

_The Imperius curse was invented during the early Middle Ages by dark witches and__ wizards. The curse was created for the coercion and brainwashing of others into __slavery. Like the other Unforgivable curses, the Imperius was not made 'unforgivable' until __1717. Since then, it has been used only by... only by... _

I gave up.

* * *

We had a prefect meeting tonight. James and I had long ago decided there was no point in making a plan on what to say, as that always goes down the drain in the first five minutes. We just wing it, and maybe bring in a list if we think we'll forget something.

Today, however, there was nothing new to report, so we only had to make changes to the patrol timetable (Hufflepuff Quidditch training had been changed to Tuesday nights, so one of the Prefects had to swap to a Thursday) and listen to the other prefects complain – er – report bad behaviour, and fill out paper for any detentions issued.

James and I had patrol again that night after dinner, near the Astronomy Tower. James arrived late, carrying some pie he had managed to sneak from the kitchens.

"You're Head Boy, James." I scolded. "You're supposed to set a good example, not flout the rules constantly to appease your overly large appetite. Everyone else manages to wait until the next meal."

James grinned wickedly, taking a seat on the floor inside the Tower. "But it's pie, Lily! Pie is worth it. Come on, think of it as… patrol incentive."

I rolled my eyes, but took a seat anyway. "I can't believe you decided to skip patrol for _pie. _If we're going to risk getting caught, you might as well do it for something decent. Cake, for example."

"Cake? You would honestly classify the artificially saccharine taste of _cake _above the surreal and godly pleasures of pie?"

"I would. Cake has _icing, _James. The delectable goey goodness of icing cannot be surpassed."

"But… but.. PIE, Lily. Pie has pastry, and you eat it with ice cream and –"

"Now you are just describing the contents of a pie, James. That in no way makes it superior."

Jams muttered something under his breath, which sounded suspiciously like "I cannot believe I ever had a crush on a girl who likes _cake _better than pie."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Treacle tart?"

"Treacle tart." He agreed. "Wait a minute. I've got this." He pulled out his wand, muttering an incantation under his breath. He always stuck his tongue out when he cast spells, just a little bit, and it always used to annoy me. Today, though, I found it rather endearing. What was happening to me? James Potter is _not _endearing. James Potter is a git.

Grinning like a maniac, he conjured two spoons and handed one to me with a mock bow. I took it, and I scooped up some treacle tart. Who the hell ate treacle tart that way? It _should _be served in a slice. Regardless of proper treacle tart etiquette, I didn't mind tonight. It was kind of fun, actually.

"Blerghh!" I said, making retching noises (but managing to swallow the tart. I was _not _going to spit treacle tart in James' face. He would never let me live it down.)

"That," I declared, "is the _worst _treacle tart I have _ever _tasted."

"I transfigured that tart. It has to be delicious." James announced, taking a spoonful himself. Soon however, he too was coughing it up.

"Water!" he spluttered. "I – need – water - now."

I made a show of conjuring a glass for him and filling it up with water. But instead of handing it to him like he expected, I pitched it straight into his face, chortling at his shocked expression. His dark curls were plastered to his face and water dripped down his glasses, which probably obscured his vision somewhat, but he could still see clearly enough to grab a handful of the disgusting tart and throw it straight at my face. Then it was his turn to laugh, as I sat there with tart sliding down my face and making a noise comparable to that of a strangled cat.

Not for long though. I grabbed my own handful and, by some miracle of the gods, managed to aim well enough to land a sizeable chunk onto the mass of curls on his smirking head. I have to say, that was the first time I'd ever seen his hair flattened.

Predictably enough, that resulted in an all-out food fight. We ran out of treacle tart soon enough, but with the help of magic I managed to send some chunks of ice cream his way, and he retaliated by drenching me in butterbeer. Soon enough, I was covered in popcorn, caramel, whipped cream, bits of apple pie (low blow, Potter, low blow), and for some reason, tomato sauce.

James was similarly inundated. Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans covered the floor. I sent a cauldron cake flying his way, but was so engrossed in the spell I didn't see the roast chicken that hit me straight in the face.

That's right. I got hit in the face by a roast chicken. Bloody Potter.

Discarding my wand, I launched myself at him. Completely oblivious, obviously expecting me to retaliate with magic, I caught him off guard and we clattered to the ground, wrestling.

Nice one, Lily. That's right, attack a 6 foot Quidditch player who participates in strength training at least three times a week (Hestia complains about it on a regular basis) and who has biceps the size of a truck. That'll end well.

Despite this, I put up a good fight. Several minutes later, I was still going strong. We struggled, rolling around and knocking most of the equipment in the room over.

Somehow, during the melee, James' lips found mine.

He pulled back immediately, looking as though someone had hit him with an electric rod or something. I probably looked the same.

James Potter just snogged me. _James Potter just snogged me. _JAMES POTTER JUST SNOGGED ME.

We stood frozen in an awkward embrace. What do I do? what the fuck do I do?

"I – I'm sorry, Lily." James said quietly. "I didn't meant to."

He looked so sheepish – hazel eyes furrowed as he looked into mine, looking for the anger that he knew was to come.

I considered getting mad. I considered slapping that egotistical git right in the face. I considered storming out of the room and never talking to him again. But I didn't.

"Fuck it." I said, and planted my lips on his.

* * *

**A/N: ****Hello again**

**Bit of a dramatic chapter (First Jily kiss EEEK), but please but forgive my shitty writing style. **

**I know this is annoying, but please, please review. **

**Thank you to whoever is actually reading this **

**Sincerely, **

**Me**


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